Tempus Projects – Bay Art Files

Immersing Tampa Bay

Immersing Tampa Bay

By Jessica Todd

Over the past decade, immersive art has grown from a niche market to mainstream popularity, much to the delight or disgust of many in the art world. From rotating projections of Starry Night to Meow Wolf’s growing repertoire, an increasing number of mainstream audiences are engaging with this medium. As it grows, we are challenged to define it, evaluate it, and integrate it into our own arts communities. Tampa Bay is eager to join the conversation—and has a lot to offer to it—with an array of examples from our own past, present, and future.

Immersive Art and its Origins

To discuss immersive art, we first need a definition: Generally, immersive art is an embodied, 360-degree experience where the boundary between “viewer” and “art” is dissolved through active participation and multi-sensory engagement. Primarily rooted in the visual arts, other disciplines including theatre, music, story-telling, film/video, dance, fashion, and culinary arts may play a role. Many definitions out there cite virtual reality, video projection, and laser light shows, but that only represents one approach; immersive art may also be created from more tactile, traditional processes.

“Immersive art…has a simple definition—it’s the creation of a world around the person in a way that makes them feel part of and inside of it. In practice, the label of immersive art touches on everything from illusory world-building to simply including a piece of interactivity within a larger, traditional art show. The true meaning of immersive art is somewhere between those two things…[it] must create something that moves beyond the fourth wall…bringing viewers into the art and augmenting their reality.”¹

Immersive art seeks to demolish the division between capital-A “Art” and life, and between art object and viewer, but the concept behind this 21st-century trend is nothing new. Throughout history and around the globe, more often than not, art and life have been deeply integrated. For example, among the thousands of cultural groups across the vast continent of Africa—such as the Yoruba, Igbo, and Dogon people—visual, performance, and literary arts are inseparable from each other and from the participatory ceremonies they accompany. (For this reason, it is absurd to display them as stand-alone “art” objects in Western museums.)

Such ceremonial markers of holidays and life’s milestones are—in Western terms—interdisciplinary, embodied art experiences. These events incorporate community members to such a degree that there is no distinguishing lexicon for “art” as a stand-alone concept in many global languages. Hand-crafted objects, costuming, music, food and drink, spoken word, dance, and theater are combined together and imbued with symbolism to create authentic, transformative experiences for participants. There is no line between “art” and “audience” because the participation of all parties is a fundamental element.² We must acknowledge the deep history and global presence of this approach to the “arts,” lest we support the false narrative that it is a contemporary, Western invention.

Art, That’s Immersive

The canon of Eurocentric Art History includes early examples of immersive or experiential art occurring in more traditional museum and gallery settings:

Andy Warhol’s Silver Clouds, first exhibited at Leo Castelli Gallery in New York City in 1966, lives on in contemporary iterations. The gallery is filled with rectangular metallic silver balloons that reflect the environment around them and belie their hefty appearance to float whimsically from floor to ceiling. Viewers are invited to walk amongst them and touch them, their movements becoming an integral element of the artwork.³
In 1971, Robert Morris filled the Tate Gallery (now Tate Britain) sculpture hall with “interactive sculptures that would experiment with conceptions about sculptural space and human physicality by having museum-goers put their own bodies to the test.” Minimalist sculptural objects such as ramps, cylinders, and beams were transformed into useful objects, emphasizing the viewers’ interactions with them as the “art,” and the sculptures as a tool to achieve an embodied aesthetic experience.⁴
The Rothko Chapel in Houston, Texas, first completed in 1971, is an octagonal brick building with a skylight, containing 14 murals by Mark Rothko in varying shades of black. It is “a spiritual space, a forum for world leaders, a place for solitude and gathering. It’s an epicenter for civil rights activists, a quiet disruption, a stillness that moves.”⁵ Its somber interior is designed to engulf the viewer and foster deeper contemplation. In the words of Tampa-based artist and educator Noelle Mason, Rothko Chapel is “immersive but not entertaining.”⁶
Yayoi Kusama has become a global sensation for her polka-dotted infinity rooms, including the 2018 exhibition Love is Calling at the Tampa Museum of Art (heralded by Tampa Bay Times as “incredibly Instagram-able.”⁷) But the 93-year-old artist has been making viewer-interactive artwork since 1966, when she was banned from performing with her controversial work Narcissus Garden at the Venice Biennale: Kusama, dressed in a kimono, sold the mirrored vinyl balls that comprised the installation to passersby for 2 dollars each, a critique of the commercialization of art.⁸
James Turrell’s “skyspaces,” a series initiated in 1973, feature an “aperture cut into the roof of a building that causes the visible plane of the sky to appear flat at the level of the opening.” They encourage experiential interaction by the viewer and a suspension of time and space.⁹ One of these—Joseph’s Coat—is installed at the Ringling Museum in Sarasota.
Ai Weiwei’s Sunflower Seeds (2010) consists of a pile of millions of unique handcrafted porcelain sunflower seed replicas on which the public is encouraged to walk. This interaction symbolizes the “complex exchanges between the one and the many.”¹⁰
A recent example is Ernesto Neto’s SunForceOceanLife (2021), a “hand-crocheted, walkable maze of yellow, orange, and green threads that stretch 79 feet across the gallery and spiral 12 feet in the air.”¹¹ This joyful piece turns museum-goers from passive observers into active playmates, all inside of the austere white box of the gallery.

Self-Identified “Immersive Art Experiences”

The name most likely to draw recognition of the immersive-art-experience world is Meow Wolf. The group started as a grassroots team of outcasts from the Santa Fe, NM arts scene who turned a rented warehouse into a punk art space in 2008. They opened their first permanent immersive art installation, House of Eternal Return, in 2016, drawing 400,000 visitors—almost six times the population of Santa Fe—that year alone.¹² Their rapid success drew the attention of investors and they’ve been growing since, with installations Omega Mart (Las Vegas, NV) and Convergence Station (Denver, CO) opening in 2021, and plans to expand to Grapevine, TX in 2023 and Houston, TX in 2024.¹³

Meow Wolf pioneered a new kind of attraction somewhere in the gray area between art and entertainment. Visitors create their own non-linear journey through a space where everything can be touched and the narrative is unclear. I have yet to visit any of Meow Wolf’s installations myself, so I can’t speak directly to them, but what seems to set them apart from a mainstream attraction like Disney World is their subversive edge, layered conceptual foundation, and eccentric aesthetic. Some in the art world have rejected their work as art, but cofounder Sean Di Ianni says, “We consider what we do to be art—very much. But if the art world doesn’t like that, that’s fine.”¹⁴

Since Meow Wolf’s meteoric rise, a number of permanent immersive arts attractions have cropped up around the country and globally, including AREA15 in Las Vegas, NV (which houses Meow Wolf’s Omega Mart, and will open another location in Orlando, FL in 2024); Superblue and Artechouse in Miami, FL; Seismique in Houston, TX; Otherworld in Colombus, OH; Wisdome LA in Los Angeles, CA; teamLab experiences in Shanghai, Tokyo, and Macau, Japan; and Atelier des Lumières in Paris, France.¹⁵ It’s fair to say we are well past “trend” territory and well into an art/entertainment hybrid discipline to be reckoned with. Tampa Bay is in on it, too, with Fairgrounds St. Pete opening in December 2021, and Crab Devil’s The Peninsularium slated for 2022. (More on them, soon.)

Fairgrounds St. Pete, St. Petersburg, Florida. Photo credit: Copyright Fairgrounds St. Pete

Recent History of Immersive Art in Tampa Bay

I reached out to leaders in Tampa Bay’s art community to hear their thoughts on immersive art in general and the medium’s history and presence in the region. Though the first “true” permanent immersive art attraction opened in 2021 (Fairgrounds St. Pete), there is a long precedent of immersive, interactive, and experiential art in Tampa Bay worth noting.

One of the first names that came to mind for many was the Vinik Family Foundation, which brought the above-mentioned Yayoi Kusama installation to the Tampa Museum of Art in 2018. They also presented the popular installation The Beach Tampa by Snarkitecture at Amelie Arena in 2016. The massive venue featured a “15,000-square-foot immersive environment featuring an “ocean” of 1.2 million recyclable and antimicrobial white balls” and was open to the public free of cost. This whimsical installation inspired joy for visitors of all ages and backgrounds.¹⁶

Earlier this year, the Vinik Family Foundation brought Lucy Sparrow’s Tampa Fresh Foods to Water Street. Sparrow’s “grocery store” was filled with over 50,000 handmade felt replicas of common consumable products. Gallery attendants became supermarket associates and Sparrow herself manned the register. Outfitted with shopping baskets, visitors could buy reasonably priced artwork/products, the proceeds of which benefitted the local nonprofits Feeding Tampa Bay and Tampa Arts Alliance.¹⁷

Walking into Tampa Fresh Foods, I instantly had a smile on my face—it was pure delight. Coke, ketchup, tampons, and shrimp smiled back at you from the shelves. I must have walked down each aisle ten times, each time seeing something new and remarking to a stranger, “Did you see the green onions?!” For me, the installation was successful beyond pure entertainment because, on closer inspection, it subversively critiqued advertising, excess, over-consumption, waste, and the paradox of choice. Even if you didn’t read into it on that level, it brought a bunch of strangers into a space to smile and laugh together, and that’s something.

One of my favorite examples of Tampa’s immersive-art past is The Music Box: Tampa Bay, created in 2016 in Mann-Wagnon Park in Sulphur Springs along the Hillsborough River. Commissioned by the University of South Florida’s Contemporary Art Museum (USFCAM) in partnership with Community Stepping Stones and curated by Sarah Howard (Curator of Public Art and Social Practice, USF), The Music Box: Tampa Bay followed in the footsteps of the first installation of The Music Box in New Orleans in 2011, a concept for musical architecture developed by New Orleans Airlift (NOA) and artist Swoon. National and local artists and students used reclaimed materials from the site to build sound-producing structures that grew into a musical village. For a month in 2016, the site was programmed with free cultural events, including musical performances, artist talks, historical talks about the history of Sulphur Springs, jam sessions, open mic nights, and yoga. Visitors were invited to open play days where they could make their own sounds and interact with the site.¹⁸

When I spoke with Sarah Howard about immersive art and what makes a work successful, she identified qualities that I believe The Music Box: Tampa Bay achieved: It sparked joy and a sense of wonder, created a common space for all to access and play, built common ground that spans all identities, and spurred action on otherwise difficult-to-tackle issues.¹⁹ I also appreciate that this project integrated the existing community where it was sited, brought together national and local artists, and worked across disciplines and generations to create a space where everyone felt included and welcomed.

My interviewees cited a number of less-well-documented examples, as well:

Devon Brady, CEO of Crab Devil, cited Mac Wellman’s play Bad Penny, performed on the banks of the Hillsborough River; the annual Gala Corina art fair in the early 2000s; and exhibitions in the 90s and 2000s by Experimental Skeleton, in which Brady took part.²⁰
Howard mentioned curator Dave Hickey’s Ultralounge: The Return of Social Space at USFCAM in 2000, where the gallery was transformed into a nightclub lounge.¹⁹
Tracy Midulla, Founder and Director of Tempus Projects, included in this list the gallery’s 2014 film and projection exhibition The Room is Empty; Benjamin Zellmer Bellas’ self-explanatory A 1993 Mercedes-Benz Is Filled with Sequins and Flipped Over onto Its Roof by Millennials, curated by Parallelogram for Coco Hunday; and Meg Leary’s Ride of the Valkyries, curated by Cunsthaus, featuring flying hairdryers and live opera singing.²¹

Surely, the eclectic list could go on, but I include these examples here to illustrate the historic swell that has developed into the recent wave of immersive art spaces in Tampa Bay.

Permanent Immersive Art Attractions in Tampa Bay

The first permanent self-identified “immersive art attraction” in Tampa Bay is Fairgrounds St. Pete, which opened in December 2021 and is located in St. Pete’s Warehouse Arts District. They’ve commissioned over 60 artists to collaborate in creating a “choose-your-own experience destination” integrating artwork with “layers of experiential innovation, using technology creatively to drive interactivity and immersive gaming.”²² Fairgrounds St. Pete emphasizes play as an entry point to the underlying narrative of their Florida-centric installation, which may be investigated as deeply as each guest desires.

I was quick to become a Fairgrounds St. Pete Immersive member in 2021 and was among the first groups of guests to visit, and have been back since. The adventure begins in a throwback Florida motel lobby with no clear roadmap on where to head next (intentionally!). I took the route of focusing on the artistic aspects, wandering through each room, appreciating the aesthetics of it all and dissecting concepts behind the artwork. I’ve never been much of a gamer, but I watched those around me enthusiastically search for clues and discover hidden codes to trigger actions, such as an epic Everglades thunderstorm on the 50-foot projection screen (collaboration with Olivia Sebeskey). Fairgrounds St. Pete’s creative approach to gamifying the space is likely a strong entry point for many, though, for me, I was happy to explore it more like an art gallery.

A few installations, in particular, stand out to me: First, Mike Hicks’ A Mysterious Portal to the Bay. I almost walked past the small, dark niche toward the back of the building, but when I noticed it and walked up, I couldn’t pull myself away. It’s a quiet and unassuming installation depicting a bridge underpass that appears to extend miles into the distance over a body of water toward a city skyline. The gently ebbing water glints with blue light and creates a soft splashing sound over muffled cars passing above. It transports you, and that makes for a great piece of art.

Strawberry Room by Macy Eats Paint and Emiliano Settecasi, St. Petersburg, Florida. Photo Credit: Copyright Fairgrounds St. Pete

I also love the Strawberry Room by Macy Eats Paint and Emiliano Settecasi, for very different reasons. It’s sweet and delightful and hits a “critical mass” (as we say in the art world) of charming strawberry cuteness. It’s adorable, but also seductive and a bit hedonistic. It’s that little bit of edge that pushes it to another level, enticing you to plunder a decadent strawberry cupcake off the neat little dessert cart and scarf it down in three indulgent bites. (But don’t, it’s sculpture.)

Electric Sky Lounge by Neil Mendoza, St. Petersburg, Florida. Photo Credit: Copyright Fairgrounds St. Pete

Electric Sky Lounge, which opened in March 2022 and features work by Neil Mendoza, is another stand-out for me. Hand-turned cranks control 3D-printed hands that exist seamlessly both as physical objects and digital images on the screens in front of them. You have full control over the hands’ simple movements, which impact cute and irreverently funny animations of animals: You can pet a shedding dog, smash a chicken, or upend a floating duck. Mendoza’s work awakened the gamer in me.

Cultural Currency by Illsol and New Roots Art Collective, mural installed on the exterior of one of Crab Devil’s shipping container installations at The Peninsularium, Tampa, Florida. Photo Credit: Copyright Crab Devil

Tampa Bay’s next permanent immersive art attraction will be Crab Devil’s The Peninsularium, expected to open in 2022 in the Ybor Heights neighborhood of Tampa.* The Peninsularium starts in a reimagined Florida Bait Shop and continues on to a maze of 25+ shipping containers, each holding an artist-made, Florida-inspired installation; a subtle but discoverable overarching narrative lies below the surface. Crab Devil CEO Devon Brady writes:

“We want our viewers to be surprised by what they see, but we want the mechanisms by which that sense of surprise is achieved to be discoverable to the engaged viewer, and for that knowledge to give them a greater insight and appreciation for the real-world magic that surrounds us all the time. We like to bring the viewer in on the secret—to show them what we like to call “the artifacts of artifice.” We want our experiences to have depth—for them to reveal their secrets on both micro and macro levels.”²⁰

Munchausen Waves by Devon Brady, Tampa, Florida. Photo Credit: Copyright Crab Devil

This intention is evident in the “preview” installations that Crab Devil has presented at Tampa events in the past couple years—Munchausen Waves at the 2021 Gasparilla Music Festival and The Bait Ball at Gasparilla Festival of the Arts earlier this year, both created by Devon Brady. Munchausen Waves is a kinetic sculpture and overhead shade structure inspired by a “Renaissance-era theatrical illusion developed by Italian stage illusionist Nicola Sabbatini.” It uses basic mechanics and mathematical synchronization to produce an optical illusion of an undulating wave-like surface.²³ On one side, the discs are painted shades of red, orange, and yellow, evoking fire or the sun. On the other side, the discs are shades of blue and green, referencing water or the sky. The billowing colors are both calming and menacing, but you can also focus your eye—the way you would on a single blade of a fan—to see the simple composition behind the magical visual effect.

The Bait Ball is housed in a 40-foot shipping container, like many of the installations at The Peninsularium will be. Guests enter to find themselves inside a cage-like steel structure lined with illuminated kelp. On one end, a tiny peephole invites a look inside a miniature diorama depicting an underwater scene (by artist Phil Roach). On the other end, a round steel ball holding a grid of white fish begins to spin. The fish start to blur just as a strobe light turns on, transforming their blurred movement into a 3D zoetrope—out of nowhere, the fish appear to be swimming in a continuous circulating motion. Before you can pull your jaw off the floor, the strobe light turns off and the mechanics of the illusion are again revealed.²⁴ As with Munchausen Waves, the curtain is pulled back, and what you see there only makes the work that much more compelling. Crab Devil approaches immersive art with tactile materials and analog technologies blended with media arts and modern technologies. I look forward to experiencing the completed attraction.

Recreating Historical Art as Immersive

I’ve encountered a range of skepticism on the subject of immersive art, but one common enemy seems to emerge: Immersive Van Gogh, and its contemporaries (immersive Monet, Kahlo, Klimt, etc.). Their primary offenses include: 1. The artist whose work is featured did not intend it to be presented that way (i.e. they’re all dead), 2. The physical medium in which the artist originally created their work is central to its significance (i.e. the fact that it’s a painting is fundamental), and 3. They are geared toward consumptive entertainment rather than thoughtful contemplation or meaningful experience. But, they are also a part of the region’s immersive art experience “scene” and demand inclusion.

Beyond Van Gogh Sarasota, Florida. Photo credit: Jessica Todd

The art world’s palpable disdain for these kinds of attractions meant only one thing: I had to go and see for myself. So, I mustered all of my judgment-withholding strength and set off to see Beyond Van Gogh Sarasota and Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel: The Exhibition. At a ticket price of $55.99, Beyond Van Gogh Sarasota (produced by Paquin Entertainment Group and Normal Studio), is located in a massive white tent in an empty field adjacent to the University Town Center Mall parking lot. Inside, the self-guided tour begins with an illuminated biographical timeline and information about Van Gogh’s work. A small room of colorful lights is the precursor to the main event: A 30,000-square-foot room with a 35-minute loop of wall and floor projections of Van Gogh’s work, sprinkled with historical quotes and photographs set to instrumental music and the occasional voiceover. Visitors seemed conscientious in reading about Van Gogh’s life and work, and gazed attentively—necks craned—at the kinetic animations of his famous paintings.

It was pretty, I’ll give them that—a fantastic choice for a Tinder profile picture background. But the wobbling projections and bold aesthetic choices on behalf of the creators were distracting for me. The animators made the sky swirl—an obvious choice—but also cut-and-pasted flowers from one painting over another, created an odd patchwork-quilt grid of Van Gogh’s signature, flew birds across skies, walked figures across city blocks, and superimposed slowly disintegrating paintings on top of each other as a transition effect. As Noelle Mason pointed out in our conversation back in April, the whole point of Van Gogh’s paintings is that they were paintings—his brushstrokes defied their static permanence and came to life on their own, without the assistance of an app.⁶ Beyond Van Gogh didn’t foster a deeper understanding or appreciation for me. In fact, it was a bit sad, having seen his work in person. Sorry, Van Gogh, capitalism did you dirty on this one.

Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel: The Exhibition. Photo credit: Jessica Todd

At Westshore Mall in Tampa, Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel: The Exhibition (produced by SEE Global Entertainment and Bridgeman Images) is a few storefronts down from Selfie Wrld Tampa (perhaps the perfect Influencer one-stop-shop?). The familiar scent of Auntie Annie’s pretzels wafts through the air as you enter the gutted Sears department store. It’s a vibe. Inside, for a $22.60 ticket, you find larger-than-life prints of Michelangelo’s famed frescoes accompanied by informational text and a self-directed audio guide. Where Beyond Van Gogh focuses on an aesthetic experience, Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel seems more focused on education. (To be fair, it isn’t advertised as “immersive,” but the terms “360-degree” and “experience” are used in their advertising.) The prints were a bit pixelated and the stained mall carpeting a bit depressing, but the text and audio information were thorough. The attraction was quite well-attended for noon on a weekday, mostly older folks but some young people, too. It was better than I anticipated, but in a different way.

Perhaps the question here is not, “What is the quality of the experience?” but, “What would the visitors be doing if they weren’t here?” Getting thousands of people to spend an hour or so learning about Art History before heading off to the food court is a major feat, one that museums struggle to accomplish. The popular, commercial aspect of these attractions provides access. As a reviewer of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel says, “We may never make it to Rome so this was a good substitute for us.” Or for others, it can be an inspiration—one Facebook user writes, “The bucket list now contains the yearning to see the real thing.”

Another gem Noelle Mason shared with me was that the (actual) Sistine Chapel is an immersive space and it was built so that everything around you inspires awe.⁶ This is absolutely true, and cathedrals, mosques, and other religious spaces may very well be the “OG” permanent immersive art spaces. The Sistine Chapel undoubtedly holds the potential to be an awe-inspiring space. But it’s worth noting that I went to the Sistine Chapel in my early 20s: My neck bent up toward the ceiling, shoulder-to-shoulder in a crowd of sweaty tourists while guards screamed, “Foto NO,” every three seconds when someone snapped an unauthorized picture—I don’t think this was Michelangelo’s vision either.

The lesson here, and perhaps the lesson for all contemporary immersive art spaces, is that you can’t force an “experience” on anyone. You can facilitate it, but experiences have to happen to you. A few weeks after that visit to the Sistine Chapel, I remember wandering into a little-known, mostly empty cathedral in Spain on an arbitrary Thursday evening. The golden-hour sun set the stained-glass windows ablaze and the gilded alter aglow, and the rehearsing choir echoed in the nave. Out of nowhere, I had an immersive arts experience, one I can remember far more vividly than many of the famous landmarks I visited. Perhaps one of the people I walked past in Westshore Mall, with its chipped tile and faint mildew scent, plastic audio guide pressed to their ear, staring on at Adam’s pixelated finger, had an experience. Who am I to judge?

Evaluating Immersive Art

Perhaps due to our global histories of these kinds of experiences, a major strength of immersive art is its accessibility. For many, an art museum is simply not welcoming: A chilly white room with signs reading “Do Not Touch,” a uniformed guard shushing, plaques with big words and old dates, accessed through an epic stone façade. It screams, “Not for everyone.” Immersive art asks you to touch, encourages photos, induces laughter, and speaks through entertainment instead of academics. It is familiar and democratized, providing more inclusive access to the arts, at least on a psychological level. (Ticket prices are sometimes quite high and can become a barrier to access.)

Larger audiences bring more money—and we all know funding to be the Achilles heel of the art world. What’s not to like about that? It’s worth noting here that immersive art experiences seem to be most popular in the heavily commercialized parts of the world: the U.S., Western Europe, and Japan. They can be money-makers, and that brings with it a focus on marketing, social media, and entertainment. The work may become too palatable, shifting the role of the artist from culture-maker to content creator.

I have yet to find an article written about immersive art that does not include the mention of Instagram or selfies. Is this a symptom of the immersive art-beast, or simply a sign of the times? We’ve all seen the Darwin Awards-esque news stories about people being gored by wild animals or plummeting from cliffs while trying to snap envy-inducing photos; we’ve read about natural wonders destroyed by hordes of selfie-takers. Perhaps in the 2020s any awe-inspiring visual scene will be reduced to influencer content to some degree.

Should immersive art welcome the free publicity? On the positive side, it increases revenue to the often-underfunded creative sector, and it bolsters access to art for those who feel excluded by high-brow galleries and museums. Or, should we admonish the dumbing down and corporatization of one of humanity’s greatest intellectual and cultural pursuits? Rather than conclude in strict “yes” or “no” answers, these questions can instead prompt thoughtful exploration into the intentions and outcomes of immersive art projects.

“True immersive art experiences ask us to use something called narrative transport. This is the idea of losing yourself in a story or getting caught up in one. When narrative transport is used properly, one of the values of the immersive experience is that it imparts a more profound meaning to the participant through use of kinetic sympathy, or accessing emotions by interacting with something. When narrative transport is used for something else—like advertising—it cheapens the whole label of immersive.”¹

When it comes to art in any form, I’m a believer that all of it is valuable in its own way. Whether it’s a paint-by-numbers kit or an elaborate full-length opera, it’s all good for something. However, I also believe in applying a critical eye to the arts for the sake of education and advancement. As we develop the canon of 21st-century immersive art, we must also develop a rubric and language for evaluating it. What makes a high-quality immersive art experience? How does it move beyond superficial awe and photo backdrops to become transformative, profound, and intellectually challenging?

“We cannot resurrect the old system of art. Nor can we simply wish away the break that split apart the old system of art, arrogating intellect, imagination, and grace to fine art and disparaging craft and popular culture as the realm of mere technique, utility, entertainment, and profit. Like other dualisms that have plagued our culture, the divisions of the fine art system can only be transcended through a continuing struggle.”²⁵

Just as in other art disciplines, evaluation investigates form and function: High-quality craftsmanship and technique, appealing aesthetics achieved through principles of design, compelling storylines, and a cohesive concept that is legible to the viewer are fundamental components of a successful work of art. Work should build upon historical references in innovative ways while contributing to contemporary conversations. Great artwork suspends time, stirs emotion, makes you view the world differently, and stays with you for years to come. Evaluating art of any kind is, of course, highly subjective, but the exercise is nonetheless important.

Conclusion

As much as immersive art experiences are enjoying a rise in popularity, they are also subject to a great deal of skepticism—from the general public due to their unconventionality, and from the art world due to their popular appeal. As Sarah Howard pointed out to me, this is not unlike any other medium of art experiencing a new rise in popularity: It took photographers decades to be considered artists; digital art wasn’t taken seriously until the 2010s; and today, we raise an eyebrow at NFTs. The immersive art field has a long road ahead to prove its chops and lower eyebrows, but I believe Tampa Bay has the talent and grit to take it on.

Thank you to the arts and culture leaders in the Tampa Bay community who took the time to speak with me on this topic: Janine Awai, Crab Reckoner at Crab Devil; Devon Brady, CEO of Crab Devil; the team at Fairgrounds St. Pete; Sarah Howard, Curator of Public Art and Social Practice for the Institute for Research in Art at the University of South Florida (USF); Noelle Mason, artist and professor at USF; and Tracy Midulla, Director of Tempus Projects. Learn more about Fairgrounds St. Pete at https://fairgrounds.art and Crab Devil at https://crabdevil.com.

*Note from the author: In full disclosure, I have been a part-time staff member of Crab Devil since January 2022. This article was written from my personal perspective—sparked by the cropping up of immersive experiences in the Tampa Bay region—and does not represent the viewpoints of any of my employers, past or present.

Jessica Todd is a writer, curator, artist, and arts administrator based in Tampa, FL. She is the Development Coordinator for Tempus Projects and the Administrative Coordinator for Crab Devil. Jess is passionate about building the creative infrastructures that support artists and arts organizations, as well as studying and addressing issues of equity, access, and inclusion in the arts. Prior to moving to Tampa in 2020, she was the Residency Manager at the Rauschenberg Residency in Captiva, FL for six years. She holds a BA in Metal Art & Technology from Penn State University and an MFA in Jewelry/Metals from Kent State University.

Endnotes

Corinne Anderson, “How and Why Immersive Experiences Are Taking Over the Denver Art Scene,” 303 Magazine, January 8, 2020, https://303magazine.com/2020/01/immersive-art-denver-colorado/.
Jacqueline Chanda. “A Theoretical Basis for Non-Western Art History Instruction.” Journal of Aesthetic Education 27, no. 3 (1993): 73–84, https://doi.org/10.2307/3333249.
“Silver Clouds – Season of Warhol,” Memorial Art Gallery, University of Rochester, accessed July 8, 2022, https://mag.rochester.edu/exhibitions/silver-clouds/.
Jonah Westerman, “Bodyspacemotionthings, Tate Modern 2009,” Tate, accessed July 8, 2022, https://Www.Tate.Org.Uk/Research/Publications/Performance-At-Tate/Perspectives/Robert-Morris.
“About,” Rothko Chapel, accessed July 8, 2022, http://rothkochapel.org/learn/about/.
Noelle Mason, interview by author, virtual, April 13, 2022.
James Borchuck, Maggie Duffy, and Tailyr Irvine, Tampa Bay Times, September 26, 2018, https://www.tampabay.com/photos/2018/09/26/yayoi-kusama-love-is-calling-exhibit-at-tampa-museum-of-art-wvideo/.
David Pendered, “Yayoi Kusama barred in 1966 from performing with ‘Narcissus Garden,’ now at Atlanta Botanical Garden,” Saporta Report, January 24, 2019, https://saportareport.com/yayoi-kusama-barred-in-1966-from-performing-with-narcissus-garden-now-at-atlanta-botanical-garden/sections/reports/david/.
“James Turrell,” Guggenheim, accessed July 8, 2022, https://www.guggenheim.org/artwork/artist/james-turrell.
“Ai Weiwei: Sunflower Seeds, 2010,” Tate, https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/ai-sunflower-seeds-t13408.
Grace Ebert, “A 79-Foot Labyrinth Crocheted by Ernesto Neto Hangs from the Ceiling of a Houston Museum,” Colossal, June 15, 2021, https://www.thisiscolossal.com/2021/06/ernesto-neto-sun-force-ocean-life/.
Dylan Owens, “Meow Wolf: The Insane Art Collective Taking Over the World,” Rolling Stone, January 16, 2019, https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-features/meow-wolf-expansion-psych-art-728202/.
Meow Wolf, “Beyond, Beyond, and Beyond: Meow Wolf is Expanding into Texas,” Meow Wolf, May 11, 2022, https://meowwolf.com/articles/meow-wolf-new-texas-locations.
Sarah Cascone, “‘The Whole Thing Is an Art Project’: Meow Wolf Cofounders Explain the Grand Plan Behind Their Wildly Popular Immersive Art Universe,” ArtNet News, October 20, 2021, https://news.artnet.com/art-world/meow-wolf-interview-2011837.
Bea Mitchell, “The World’s Top 12 Immersive Art Experiences,” Blooloop, June 1, 2022, https://blooloop.com/technology/in-depth/immersive-art-experiences/.
“Release – The Vinik Family Foundation presents The Beach Tampa by Snarkitecture,” Amelie Arena, July 18, 2016, https://www.amaliearena.com/news/detail/release-the-vinik-family-foundation-presents-the-beach-tampa-by-snarkitecture.
Chloe Greenberg, “UK artist Lucy Sparrow’s ‘Tampa Fresh Foods’ felt grocery store is now open in Water Street,” Creative Loafing Tampa Bay, January 21, 2022, https://www.cltampa.com/arts/uk-artist-lucy-sparrows-tampa-fresh-foods-felt-grocery-store-is-now-open-in-water-street-12740616.
“The Music Box: Tampa Bay,” USFCAM, August 9, 2016, https://usfcam.wordpress.com/2016/08/09/the-music-box-tampa-bay/.
Sarah Howard, interview by author, Tampa, April 13, 2022.
Devon Brady, email message, April 11, 2022.
Tracy Midulla, interview by author, Tampa, April 5, 2022.
Fairgrounds St. Pete Marketing team, email message, April 16, 2022.
“Crab Devil Offers Exclusive Teaser of Immersive Art Installation to 2021 Gasparilla Music Festival Attendees,” Crab Devil, September 16, 2021, https://www.crabdevil.com/2021/09/16/crab-devil-offers-exclusive-teaser-of-immersive-art-installation-to-2021-gasparilla-music-festival-attendees/.
“Crab Devil Celebrates Florida’s Exquisite Aquatic Ecosystem with Newest Installation at Gasparilla Festival of the Arts,” Crab Devil, March 3, 2022, https://www.crabdevil.com/2022/03/03/crab-devil-celebrates-floridas-exquisite-aquatic-ecosystem-with-newest-installation-at-gasparilla-festival-of-the-arts/.
David Clowney, “A Third System of the Arts? An Exploration of Some Ideas from Larry Shiner’s The Invention of Art: A Cultural History,” Contemporary Aesthetics, vol. 6 (2008), http://hdl.handle.net/2027/spo.7523862.0006.004.

@tampabaebae art files

@tampabaebae art files

by James Cartwright

*jenal*, 2019. Acrylic, oil, coffee grounds, enamel, on board, foamular frame, 50 x 50 inches. Image courtesy of the artist.

Jenal Dolson is a nervous flyer even under normal circumstances. Add scrambling to get out of the country during a global pandemic before international borders close and anyone’s stress levels will ascend to new heights. It is Tuesday, March 31^st, and she is leaving the United States and returning home to Canada to shelter with her family as the severity of COVID-19 slowly dawns on U.S. citizens. She sits alone in Tampa International Airport, waiting to board a flight that she never expected to be on and saying goodbye to a place she is not ready to leave behind.

To call the last few weeks of Dolson’s time in Tampa a whirlwind would be an understatement. At this point in March, she is a MFA candidate at the University of South Florida, in the thick of her final semester when the coronavirus hits America. Between transitioning her in-person classes to an online platform (no easy feat for studio art courses), finishing her thesis work, writing about said work, preparing for install, and making travel arrangements, change is the constant. Her graduating class’s MFA exhibition Battin’ A Hundred is canceled, their reception is canceled, their panel discussion moderated by artist Kalup Linzy is canceled. It feels like everything is canceled. However, the artists are undeterred, and they still exhibit their work in the USF Contemporary Art Museum. There is almost a defiant pride in displaying their art knowing that it will not be seen in person.

Dolson spends her precious final hours in Tampa packing for her flight and installing her work in the CAM, with the invaluable assistance of museum staff Vincent Kral, Eric Jonas, and Tony Wong Palms. She recalls visiting the museum for the first time on a 2014 trip to Tampa and sensing then that she would one day show work in this space, a premonition fulfilled these six years later.

*Bump Dream*, 2020. Acrylic, latex, oil on canvas, 72 x 72 inches.
From the MFA thesis exhibition. Image taken by Jezabeth Roca Gonzalez.

*Soother*, 2020. Acrylic, oil, fabric, foamular, on MDF, 50 x 50 inches.
From the MFA thesis exhibition. Image taken by Jezabeth Roca Gonzalez.

*Whale*, 2020. Acrylic, oil, foamular, on panel, 50 x 50 inches.
From the MFA thesis exhibition. Image taken by Jezabeth Roca Gonzalez.

Her arrival in Toronto is not met with a warm embrace from Dolson’s parents, who are relieved to see their daughter home safe but still respecting the social distancing rules that now measure our lives. Everyone dons their face masks and Dolson sits in her parents’ backseat on the car ride from the Toronto airport to their family home outside of Cambridge, Ontario, taking these moments to let a wave of quiet calm wash over her and finally exhale. She is deeply grateful to her parents for hosting her, knowing that in doing so they have committed to the country’s mandatory 14 day returning traveler quarantine alongside her.

Dolson uses the next few days to reacclimate to these surroundings, the familiarity of place comforting her during an unfamiliar time. She self-isolates in a section of her family’s basement, with her beloved chihuahua Bam Bam to keep her company and a mini-fridge stocked with snacks to keep her fed, courtesy of mom. That Friday she joins a Zoom reception hosted by CAM for the MFA exhibition, which has a great turnout as many people are eager to see the artists’ work and congratulate them. Dolson later passes the two-week quarantine mark on the same day that she passes her thesis defense, and her reward for this tremendous accomplishment is finally being able to hug her parents.

*Into the Belly*, 2020. Coloured pencil, watercolour pencil, gesso, on board, 8.75 x 8.75 x 0.6 inches. Image courtesy of the artist.

A welcome focus for Dolson’s energy comes in the form of creating a solo exhibition entitled Into the Belly for Tempus Projects, highlighted on the non-profit gallery’s Instagram account. The show, which ran from May 30^th-June 12^th, neatly aligns with the Tampa-based gallery’s approach to the pandemic’s unique challenges. Tempus is utilizing social media to showcase a series of mini-virtual exhibits that feature works on a small, intimate scale. As Tempus Founder and Programming Director Tracy Midulla explains, “We have taken the approach of offering small, short virtual exhibitions. This allows us to keep the quality of the work featured at a high standard, but the format and delivery of the works to a manageable level for everyone as we are distanced from one another.”

Installation view of *Into the Belly* in a section of Dolson’s converted basement space. Image courtesy of the artist.

Into the Belly consists of eight coloured pencil drawings on gessoed board, with each work’s dimensions around 5×6 or 7×8 inches. Dolson’s process is reliant on found materials, so she seamlessly adapts to her new circumstances by repurposing leftovers in her old studio in her parents’ house. Her use of coloured pencils on board allows for textures to come out of the surface itself, some areas pulling through the grain of the wood or underlaying brushwork; paired with a uniform attention to colour blocking and gradient fades. These underlaying patterns resemble countless tiny fissures, which further emphasize the material’s surface while adding layers of complexity to already rich compositions.

*The Days Eye (Edelweiss)*, 2020. Coloured pencil, watercolour pencil, gesso, on board, 8.75 x 4.8 x 0.6 inches. Image courtesy of the artist.

The small scale of each work is in keeping with the gallery’s current theme of miniature exhibitions. Dolson also expresses her interest in scaling down the works to a size that is accessible, where they can be held in your hand and you can take them with you very easily. Although these new images are much smaller than her thesis paintings, she draws several parallels between the two bodies of work. Dolson clarifies that the viewer is still looking at a series of shapes, forms, lines, directions, and pathways, which you can follow around the work finding little areas where something new can be seen.

*Bathhouse*, 2020. Coloured pencil, watercolour pencil, gesso, on board, 5.8 x 4.8 x 0.75 inches. Image courtesy of the artist.

There is plenty to see in Dolson’s drawings, so much that you might get lost in looking. The artist presents the viewer with a plethora of shapes and motifs to latch onto and alluring pathways through each labyrinth. One might glance at a piece like Bathhouse and seize upon the chain in the lower right of the composition as a good entry point. If you follow this chain directly upwards, it becomes veiled by a light blue rectangular shape that hints of cloth or drapery. If you choose a different approach and start from top to bottom, does the chain then become unveiled? Other areas may suggest something recognizable while leaving you grasping to articulate this familiarity.

Into the Belly is an apt title, as Dolson equates our current COVID-19 reality with entering the belly of the whale or belly of the beast. As levels of infection fluctuate worldwide and we find ourselves months into isolation with no clear end in sight, she muses “it is hard to say if we are on the other side yet, are we still inside of it completely, or can we see the light? There is a lot of emotion in this time that is kind of unpredictable and everyone’s pace of life has changed dramatically. It is not only a metaphor, but it is allegorical of how everyone has been forced into this journey.”

The title also attaches us to the body, to be within a living thing, which she connects to the physical referents that a lot of the shapes and forms take on in her work. The tempest of emotions and anxieties we feel manifest physically in our bodies, and the pandemic makes us hypersensitive to these sensations. We continually self-monitor for the first signs of fever, the slightest cough, and to make sure we have not lost our sense of smell or taste. As Dolson succinctly puts it, “our emotions in our bodies are really in our guts.”

*Insulation (viewfinder)*, 2020. Coloured pencil, watercolour pencil, gesso, on board, 5.8 x 4.8 x 0.6 inches. Image courtesy of the artist.

Dolson is appreciative of Tempus for giving her a platform to explore new ideas post thesis, amidst the pandemic. She explains that the timing was especially beneficial, as it “really gave me a lot of purpose during the first month and a half that I was back. I was able to come home and put in work drawing 8-10 hours a day and that was absolutely amazing. I think Tempus has a strong sense of what it means to be an art space in that they truly value their artists and look to foster a sense of creativity and programming that makes sense for who they are affiliated with.”

Proceeds from Dolson’s show will go towards helping Tempus fundraise for a paid full-time director position for the gallery. Dolson is also donating a portion of the proceeds from future sales to Black Lives Matter Tampa.

What is next for Jenal Dolson? “Making more work” is her immediate, unflinching answer. Dolson is making a new series of paintings on canvas and she looks forward to waking up each morning and having her studio time. She relishes the daily grind of making work, embodying that true artist-as-hustler mentality, where the balancing act of juggling multiple jobs and projects only energizes her to seek more.

In terms of future exhibitions, Dolson is thrilled to have a solo show this fall at an artist-run space in Benson, Nebraska called The Pet Shop, and she beams when discussing the opportunity. Her close friend Kim Darling, currently a MFA candidate at USF, ran a space at the gallery and helped Dolson make connections in Benson. Dolson also remains in good virtual company through regular studio visits with friends and a gallery in Chicago with which she is enamored. Finally, it has been only days since Dolson moved into an apartment in the port city of Hamilton, Ontario. The industrious city’s “steel town” identity matches her own tenacious work ethic. She is drawn to the city’s strong local arts scene, where she can make her marks on the community. There is also a lovely blend of nature and rich architectural history that she is wasting no time in exploring. Dolson is eager to create her place in this new environment, and everywhere she looks she absorbs new lines, new shapes, new textures, new patterns, and new objects, searching for another source of inspiration around every corner.

Dolson in her Tampa studio with Bam Bam. Image taken by Kim Darling.

Into the Belly ran from May 30-June 12 and it can still be viewed on the Tempus Projects Instagram account. For more information about Jenal Dolson, you can visit her website and Instagram account. You can also learn more about the 2020 MFA exhibition on the USF Contemporary Art Museum website.

James Cartwright earned his M.A. in Art History from USF in 2017. He focuses on cross-cultural exchanges in art production, while occasionally wandering into the realm of contemporary art criticism. He is an adjunct Art History instructor at USF and the University of Tampa, where he uses his liberal arts background to corrupt the impressionable youth of America.

Time+Space+Place

A Look at Tempus Projects’ Residency Program

by Caitlin Albritton

Combining the best of immersive time in the studio with the added perk of travel, artist-in-residence programs have become the norm for artists to pursue just as much as exhibitions. Allowing for the opportunity to disrupt routine and refresh oneself in an unknown location, work made during residencies can change the course of artists’ careers.

In order to nourish the art community, Tempus Projects – an artist-run non-profit gallery housed in Seminole Heights now reaching their 10^th anniversary this year– stepped to the plate to bring a residency experience to the Tampa Bay Area. While there are other local residency programs, like Morean Art’s Center for Clay’s AIR or USF’s invitation-only Kennedy Family Artist and Scholar in Residency, there is a gap in open-application residencies for national and international interdisciplinary artists.

“It was something that I had wanted to do with Tempus from the beginning. When we had the opportunity for the apartment above the Project Space, we took it,” says Tracy Midulla, Founder, Programing Director and Board Chair of Tempus Project.

Artist Kalup Linzy supervising the installation of **Suns. Moons. Stars. Dreams. Recent Works by Kalup Linzy**, May 21 – June 26, 2016, at the Tempus Projects’ Project Space.

Tempus Project’s residency started in 2016 with an invitation extended to Kalup Linzy, who is a previous graduate from the University of South Florida’s BFA and MFA programs. Commingling with local artists to use as actors in his performances, Linzy used his studio time to create scenes for his soap opera videos that he has become known for.

A 2016 evening view of Tampa’s **Tempus Projects** building featuring the work of Kalup Linzy in the Project Space (the far-right storefront). The second-floor live-workspace houses the Artists in Residency Program.

In a live-work environment, artists implement both the upstairs apartment and the back half of CUNSTHAUS (an additional exhibition and project space next to Tempus Projects that’s main goal is to create an engaging space for a variety of cultural programs and experiences with a low-key emphasis on showing women artists) as their studio space, where they have access to a modest collection of tools to suit their needs along with a $1,000 stipend. To celebrate the end of a residency, the artist presents their most recent works in an exhibition that is usually accompanied by an artist talk at the opening reception and a private cocktail party for the Sustaining Members, whose contributions help fund these residencies along with general operational funding (and previously from ACHC grants).

Decisions, decisions: the difficult selection process

As Tempus Projects begins to get its name out, they have seen residency applications from all over the globe. The open call for their Sunistra exhibition–with over 280 submissions—helped get them on artists’ radars. With their most recent residency open call, Tempus received 63 applications, many of them coming from Georgia, New York, and Florida.

While they don’t give a preference to a certain type of artist, they prefer non-Tampa-based artists since they feel that they can best support local artists in other ways. Trying to do as many residencies as possible in a year, typically two artists are selected from the open call, while other residents are selected by referrals.

“The reason we do our selections as a committee is because we all look at it differently. We are a well-balanced committee, so some may look more closely at their resume and writing, while others might look more closely at the imagery. Everybody has something that they look for, but we don’t give preference to any particular artist. We tend to look at work that is more engaging and relevant to social topics. We look for the most challenging work,” Midulla explains. “Overall, it’s been pretty easy for us to select artists. What it comes down to is that we all have two or three of the same favorites, then we look at the best fit.”

While “success” in terms of how a residency concludes is highly subjective, Tempus Projects has found that the most successful projects revolve around a strong work ethic and the ability to balance time well.

“We’ve had some artists where they didn’t make any work while they visited, then we had other artists that highlighted their time here, and this was indicative in the work they made. They were immersed in local culture, but also made the time for their work. They really got to know our city and community of artists. Kalup Linzy has roots in New York but lives here part-time. While Jenal Dolson (2017 AIR alumnus) was here, she ended up being recruited by USF for their master’s program. Roxanne Jackson (2018 AIR alumnus) is always trying to find reasons to come back to Tampa, and I think that’s exciting that even if they don’t stay here, they have a long-term relationship with us. That’s how we’re serving Tampa and our visiting artists through this residency,” Midulla says.

The artist’s residency experience: creating lasting bonds

Though it may have a small grass-roots foundation, Tempus Projects’ influence and notoriety has spread. Whether having heard about the residency online or meeting a Tempus supporter or board member in passing, sights have pointed artists to Tampa with Tempus becoming a noteworthy destination in itself. In Jenal Dolson’s case, an initial interest in the Tampa Drawers Sketch Gang [a drawing collective previously run out of Quaid Gallery, which was previously housed in Tempus’s Project Space] turned into an exhibition opportunity, which led to her learning about the residency.

Studio work-in-progress for Jenal Dolson’s ***Artificial Paradise***, February 11 – March 10, 2017, Tempus Projects’ Project Space

“My residency proposal talked about my interest in the visuals of choropleths and geology. I was thinking I’d try to focus on something thematic as I’ve always been fascinated with the solid spaces of land, which seemed to be at odds with the marshy swiss-cheesiness of Florida. I was—and still am—interested in the duality of meanings that can be grown out of these notions,” Dolson says. “I love a change of scenery when starting a new body of work. I started projecting images onto panels and editing stills of them on my computer, which helped me look at the space around the work in a new way. It helped me take the step towards breaking a few boundaries or rules I was stuck in, and let me explore a more desired inventory of materials.”

In between studio time, Midulla invited Dolson to all of the local arts and culture events as well as set up studio visits with folks within the art community like Tempus Board Members, local artists, curators, and college faculty and recent MFA graduates.

“It made me feel very welcome, and I’m really grateful to have made some lasting relationships. I had always been interested in doing an MFA a few years after I graduated from the University of Waterloo, but I had never lived anywhere other than Ontario. When people in Tampa learned that I was looking at grad schools, they suggested I apply at USF, so I did. I felt like there was a community to insert myself into here. Despite getting into another program I thought I was set on at the University of Guelph, the universe said, ‘Go to Tampa.’”

Community ties

Other than one-on-one studio visits, many artists have taken their residency opportunity to work collaboratively with local artists and institutions.

Cuban Artist Marian Valdez Rodriguez & Tampa Master Printer Erica Greenberg Schneider at **Bleu Acier** working prints for
Rodriguez’ 2017 exhibition.

“We research the artist’s work, get to know them for a few days, and try to get them in touch with people in the area to help them facilitate their needs,” Midulla says. “Cuban artist Marian Valdez Rodriquez was part of our International Artist Exchange Program, and she worked on a print edition with Bleu Acier [a Tampa-based limited edition fine art publisher and collaborative workshop run by Master Printer Erika Greenberg-Schneider].”

“The Tempus Projects residency is well-suited to artists who work collaboratively and are interested in community engagement,” says Katherine Pill, Curator of Contemporary Art at the Museum of Fine Art in St. Peterburg and a long-term Tempus Projects Board Member. “It’s always important to remember that we don’t exist in a vacuum. Creating bridges between different arts communities is extremely valuable in terms of gaining an outside perspective and being introduced to new ideas and ways of doing things. A 2017 panel discussion we organized at the MFA allowed for a public talk regarding the US-Cuba artist exchange that Tempus initiated with the Escuela Nacional de Bellas Artes “San Alejandro.” Christina Humphreys, a San Francisco-based artist and a graduate of USF who was able to spend a month working in Havana, and Cuban artist Marian Valdéz Rodriguez, who had spent a month in Tampa, were present and were able to speak about their respective exchange experiences.”

Artist team LIZN’BOW were selected for their new youth project A Talk Show with LIZN’BOW, which was set up like a workshop series at Community Stepping Stones, a local Sulpher Springs-based non-profit organization using arts-steeped pedagogy to educate and inspire at-risk youth, using a talk show format for the kids to explore different social and identity potentialities.

***A Talk Show with LIZ’BOW***
January 27 – February 17, 2018, at CUNSTHAUS

“Our project with Community Stepping Stones needed every minute we had: we were teaching workshops several days a week and editing the footage from class at night while preparing for the talk show. The actual show ended up being a live audience and live stream performance using work different elements from our classes to bring it together,” LIZN’BOW say. “The kids had so much fun and always had something to say. We really like giving kids a lot of agency, which they like a lot and aren’t used to in normal classroom settings. Every time we had a different workshop session, they had big reactions because we pushed them to experiment, like during our makeup sessions. They got pretty wild adding globs of lipstick all over their face. At first, they would judge the experience, but after actually doing it they would get excited, laugh, and want to do it again.”

The community overall was helpful in supporting LIZN’BOW’s project and helping it come to fruition, allowing for additional informal collaborations to nourish the next generation of artists and thinkers. By the end of their residency, LIZN’Bow had two exhibitions: a LIZN’BOW Retrospective in one gallery, and A Talk Show in the other.

“The day of the show was really special and a lot of folks really liked what we did with them, including the kid’s parents. The Stepping Stones kids and Tempus Projects folks became our community during that time,” LIZN’BOW explain. “I think that ideas that are worked out and through between a group of people can be more powerful than an idea coming from just one person. Doing creative and social work can also be very difficult materially and emotionally, and having the support from several different places and people can be crucial in seeing a project and concept grow.”

Even well after these projects have finished, students at Community Stepping Stones who participated in the Talk Show still brag to new students about their live-feed gallery debut.

“The most notable moment in these projects is the pride the kids take in their work. We can really see the difference it makes to them. First, they might be standoffish with new artists or dismissive of the medium—these are some pretty skeptical kids—but as the lesson unfolds and they connect to these new experiences, they become very excited and confident about it. It is really just the best thing to see,” says Michelle Sears, Director of Programs at Community Stepping Stones.

Installation view of the second-floor live-work space during ***I WOULDN’T GO THERE UNLESS I COULD FIT EVERYTHING SHE OWNS IN MY MOUTH***
**Recent Works by Mike Stasny,** September 17 – October 8, 2016
Tempus Projects

Mike Stasny from Atlanta was another Tempus resident artist who came to work with these students for two 2-hour sculpture classes. The young artists were asked to imagine their subject (whether a dog, an old-fashioned radio or a person) stretched out in strange ways to pull the animals and objects out of proportion. Using foam and wire, they created new and unusual artistic “monsters.”

“They were so excited and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. We try to introduce as many different artists and experiences as possible to our classes,” Sears says. “These are extremely meaningful collaborative experiences to the students. It opens their world view and exposes them to new ways of thinking about how they connect to people and their world in general, and they take these experiences home. Our students’ families visit our classroom regularly and they see what the kids are doing and they have conversations about it, and I believe those conversations strengthen bonds and open doors to possibilities and a new understanding of many different things.”

Tempus Projects has hosted eleven artists and two artist groups since their first residency, but what’s so special about Tampa as a destination to drive artists to come? Whether being enchanted by the tropics, wishing to work collaboratively with the community, or a myriad of other reasons, it’s clear that there’s a fascination with this place; there’s something luscious and mysterious that causes artists to gravitate to this area that encourages a different kind of growth.

“We have other interesting projects here that bring people here, but I think the weirdness of Tampa is the driving curiosity for these artists,” Midulla says.

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Caitlin Albritton is a freelance writer based in Tampa with a BFA from Savannah College of Art and Design and an MFA from Maryland Institute College of Art. A practicing artist, you can learn more about her practice by following her on Instagram @caitlinalbritton or visiting her website.